


Nameless Longbottom

by backinyourbox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby Names, F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 04:50:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8314531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backinyourbox/pseuds/backinyourbox
Summary: Frank laughed, the low, rich laugh he usually reserved just for her. "I suppose we could always go with Mother's suggestion…" 
Alice's mouth fell open in disbelief. "And name him after your mad uncle? I may be incredibly hormonal right now, Frank Longbottom, but I have yet to completely lose my mind."





	

 

Alice sat up in bed, tapping her quill irritably against the parchment propped up against her knees. It had taken a good half an hour to get comfortable against the headboard, and she'd had to summon several flat objects to make a decent writing desk, and now her back itched and she couldn't reach around to scratch it with all the pillows in the way. She glared at the quill, as if her discomfort was somehow its fault, and stabbed a blotch of ink into the parchment. Since it was already covered in blotches and scratches, it didn't do much to improve matters.

There was a soft knock on the door, and her husband poked her head around it. At first he looked somewhat anxious, until his eyes widened suddenly in disapproval. "Alice, love, you're supposed to be resting," he said, pushing the door open further with a look on his face that seemed to say she might as well have been doing cartwheels on the ceiling.

Alice made a face at him. "I'm in bed, aren't I? And you don't have to knock. This isn't the 1890s. Well, I suppose it is in _this_ house," she added, not bothering to hide her considerable annoyance. As if being bed bound wasn't bad enough, she just had to be stuck at her in-laws. Frank had to work, of course, and he wouldn't hear of her staying at home alone with no one to look after her. After a few days of his mother's 'care', however, she thought she would take her own empty bedroom any day.

"Hey, I grew up in this house," he protested, closing the door behind him. He came over to the bed, and paused as something _crunched_ under his foot. He looked down, grimacing. "What's that?"

"Owl treat," Alice muttered, returning to glaring down at her piece of parchment.

“Oh. Er… was there an owl?"

"Obviously."

"And there are owl treats on the floor because…?"

Alice looked up at him with her eyes slightly narrowed. "You're the one who backed up that stupid Healer when he said I couldn't get out of bed. I tried to summon the box and it fell open."

"Ah." Frank pulled out his wand and deftly flicked the pile of crumbs into the wastepaper basket. "Who was it?"

"Hm?"

"The owl."

Alice doodled idly on the corner of her parchment. "Lily. She says hers is still kicking her stomach out through her ribs. And Molly's in the club again." She rummaged around one-handed in the covers and handed him the crumpled letter. Frank perched on the edge of the bed and scanned through it. He snorted. "Again? Isn't her latest only six months old?"

"Five."

"Poor woman. Can't Arthur keep his hands off her for five minutes?"

Alice shrugged. "She actually _likes_ it, I think. She must be off her nut."

Frank scooted along the bed to sit alongside her. He reached up and ran the backs of his fingers lightly along the side of her neck, just the way she liked, and she closed her eyes for a moment, the quill finally going loose in her hand. "What's the matter?" he asked softly.

She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him properly for the first time since he had entered the room. He was as pretty now as he had been when she’d first fallen in love with him, she thought. Dark, chocolatey brown eyes stared lovingly at her from under his high, quizzical brow and tightly-curled brown hair. His long, straight nose could not have been more different to her own, button shaped one. No wonder Augusta kept saying she hoped the child would take after him, even if it did make Alice want to slam a door in her face every time she said it. She couldn't lie to Frank. "I hate this," she sighed.

He pushed an errant lock of hair out of her face. "I know. But it's nearly over. The Healer said you aren't to stress yourself."

Alice let out a short, frustrated breath. " _Stuff_ the Healer. I'm an Auror. I eat stress for breakfast."

Frank raised a knowing eyebrow. "You're a _pregnant_ Auror who's about to pop any second. We shan't be having any more near misses if we can help it. Right?"

She sighed. She _hated_ it when he was right. "Oh, fine. I just wish I could be at home, with you. Or if I could just _do_ something… I'm useless just sitting here."

"Sweetheart, you're growing life inside you. That's not nothing."

Alice made a face. "Well, growing life is _boring_. I want to chase a Dark Wizard. I want to arrest someone."

"Or fill in a pile of paperwork for six hours," Frank added, grinning. "I promise you aren't missing anything."

"But I _am_ ," she complained. "I read the Prophet, Frank, it's not like I'm totally cut off from the world. Those bloody Death Eaters are out there, worse than ever, and that horrible man is killing people, and I haven't been able to be part of it for _months,_ and -" she drew in a sharp breath as she felt a familiar sharp twitching sensation.

"Alice?" Frank was suddenly tensed, his arm straightening under him as he raised himself into a half sitting position, poised to leap into action. "What - is it -?"

"No," Alice sighed, flopping back into her pillow nest. "He's just kicking. I think he heard me whinging." Suddenly where she had been filled with frustration fit to bust, she just felt incredibly tired. She shifted to her side, cuddling into the warm, comforting shelter of her husband's side. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I know its stupid to be worrying about… about Order stuff… when I'm days away…"

"It's all right," he said soothingly, stroking her hair and resting one hand on her belly. "I know we didn't exactly plan this, like Lily and James did, but we're here now, and our boy's going to be just as wanted and just as loved and just as special as James Potter junior."

Alice giggled, despite herself. "I think Lily veto'd that one. They were calling him Harry, last time I asked."

"Good name." Frank reached down and pushed back the corner of the parchment she had been scribbling on. Several words had been crossed out, a few had been circled, and the rest had been scribbled on until they were no longer legible. "Er… much progress on your end of things?"

"None." Alice sighed and flicked the quill onto the floor. The feather was all coming apart from her constant worrying anyway. "At this rate he's going to be Nameless Longbottom until he's at least two."

Frank laughed, the low, rich laugh he usually reserved just for her. "I suppose we could always go with Mother's suggestion…"

Alice's mouth fell open in disbelief. "And name him after your mad uncle? I may be incredibly hormonal right now, Frank Longbottom, but I have yet to completely lose my mind."

"Oh, I dunno. I think Algernon has a sort of sophisticated feel to it."

She rolled her eyes. "Frank, this is serious. I'm due in less than a week and I don't like any of these." She crumpled up the parchment and tossed it across the room, where it bounced off the door.

"Right." Frank brandished his wand. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. _Accio book!"_

Alice blinked. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving things up to fate. Whatever book comes, we'll take the author's name."

"Oh? And what if you've just summoned your mother's entire library?"

Something thudded insistently on the closed door. "Would I do that?" Frank asked innocently as he got up to open it. There was a heavy tome hovering in the doorway, but when Frank slid his hand under it, it reverted to the usual rules of gravity. "Oh," he said, with a surprised tone as he looked at it.

"What is it?" Alice asked. She would never admit it, but she felt a little twinge of excitement.

"It's a book of stories. Mother used to read them to me when I was little.”

Alice's eyebrows rose. She couldn't imagine Augusta doing anything of the sort. "What's it called?"

Frank dropped the book onto the duvet beside her. " _A Collection of Whimsical and Wonderful Tales,_ by Weatherton T. Turlington."

Alice snorted. "Frank, I am _not_ naming our son _Weatherton_."

Frank seemed to consider it for a minute, then he grimaced. "No," he said defeatedly. "I suppose not. Well, so much for that idea."

Alice looked down at the book. It was clear it had been quite well-used, for a thick, dull-looking book of children's stories. Whoever had heard of a children's book without even any pictures on the cover? It was old, dusty-looking leather, with the title and author's name stamped out in gold that had cracked and peeled away. And in the bottom corner, scarcely legible, was another name. She ran her fingers over it. _Edited by Neville B. Young_.

"Neville," she said, quietly, trying it out.

"What's that?" Frank asked, glancing at her.

"Neville," she said again, showing him.

"Neville Longbottom," Frank said thoughtfully. "It has a sort of ring to it."

The baby kicked again, and Alice put both her hands to the swell of her oversized belly. "I think he likes it," she said, smiling.

"Neville it is, then." Frank looked pleased, his hand moving to cover hers. "There, do you feel better now?"

Alice didn't answer. She felt the life move inside her with a rush of true elation, as if feeling it suddenly for the very first time. If she couldn't fight, she reasoned, if she couldn't bring down Death Eaters with her very own hands, then she could make the world a better place by bringing him… this child, _their_ child, into it. With the help of the Order of the Phoenix, she was going to build a world that was safe for her son to grow up in, where she would know, whoever she was, wherever _he_ was, that he was happy.

"Neville," she said again, softly, as Frank put his arm around her, feeling their child making himself known. "Neville Longbottom. Our boy's going to change the world."


End file.
